Daughter of the Darkest Moon

Dark Moon and Rogues

I watched his eyes light up as he fought to control a grin. It was obvious, he had been one of the boys to play Dark Moons and Rogues. Like when human boys played Cops and Robbers.

Every little wolf boy wanted to be Oliver Sandulf or one of his Dark Moon Clan. Killing feral rogues in epic battles and earning the respect of packs all over the country.

“No. Seriously?!” He breathed.

“Yup.”

“I was named after him. My dad was a huge fan.” He admitted.

“Most wolves named Oliver, in our generation, were named for him. Did you play as your namesake when you and your friends would fight in the playground?” I smiled.

Oliver blushed a little. “Yeah.”

“There was always one kid that wanted to be a rogue, right?” I laughed.

“How did you know?”

“I used to watch them in the yard of the pack house. Who was it?” I asked.

“Mark. He’s the head of the warriors now.” He told me.

“Yes, the tactician. Grandfather always said the ones who played as the rogues were the ones to look to for innovative battle strategies.”

“I heard his grandson died in a car accident, but not that he had a granddaughter.” Oliver said.

“The head of the council of elders is the human mate of a wolf who came in after the clan settled and started their pack. She believed women were supposed to support men, not outshine them. You wouldn’t believe how pissed she was when her son lost the fight for the position of Alpha when grandfather retired.” I chuckled.

“Because it was your mother that was selected?”

“Yes. Grandfather promised his mate that females would be allowed to try for leadership positions. Mother was the strongest dominant in the pack. Never lost a fight in human, half-wolf, or full wolf form.

Elder Renault insisted my mother take her son, Lyall, as her mate. She thought it would make him a co-ruler. According to grandfather, my mother said she’d accept the proposal if Tamara could beat her in a fight. The woman refused because she was human and would lose. My mother made Lyall her Beta, as is tradition, and got to work growing and strengthening the pack.” I recounted.

“She married someone from another pack, right?”

“My father’s pack came from Maine, near the border. He came as a guard for his Alpha during a negotiation of alliance. As soon as she saw my father, my mother jumped over her desk, threw him over her shoulder, and barricaded them in her bedroom for three days. Father was a warrior, but not dominant. Mother needed someone who wouldn’t fight her unless it was important. I was only four when they died, but I remember how in love they were.” I said softly.

“How’s your food? Why don’t you eat? We can talk later.” Oliver smiled.

I was grateful. It was getting hard to talk about my family. I finished my steak, salad, and rolls quickly. The food made me feel better, but also tired.

When Oliver finished his meal, he cleared our plates and picked me up to carry to the bed, even though I insisted I could walk. He tucked me in and climbed in next to me, wrapping his arms around me.

I reveled in the smell of him. His soap, his skin, the undertones of fur and forest, all of the delicious things that made it so hard to push him away when he held me. I didn’t understand why I felt so close to him, but I was always up for gaining a new friend. Especially when they were as cute as Oliver.

“I’d like to hear more, but you need to rest. Do you think you can sleep alone, Livy? Would you like me to be here in case you have nightmares?” He asked.

“I want to say no, but grandfather used to tell me, ‘You can’t refuse medicine, then curse the illness for making you feel like shit.’ I need sleep free of nightmares and, it seems, having the scent of another wolf next to me is enough to push them off.” I murmured.

“Let me go get the kitchen cleaned real quick, then I’ll come to bed. Can you stay awake until I get back?”

“I’ll try.” I yawned.

Oliver patted my head and climbed off the bed to clean the kitchen. I watched as he moved around and was happy. He was a caring friend. It felt like I’d known him for years. That made it a little easier to relax.

-

[Oliver]

-

I washed the dishes and thought about what Liviana revealed. My questions had seemed like friendly inquiries, but I needed to check facts. Things that weren’t common knowledge.

The first meeting of Ylva Sandulf and Warrick Drake was something that was only known about in the circles of Alphas. As the first female Alpha, Ylva had the job of creating the title for her mate since Luna wouldn’t work. She chose the name of a Babylonian moon god, ‘Aku’.

Their meeting changed the dynamic of how mates regarded each other in that class. Most often, females were awestruck and rarely more dominant than their male partners. Males didn’t realize, dominant females were different.

Female dominants started being more forceful, rather than holding back and mimicking other females. Men knew it was a compliment when a dominant female was aggressive. When Ben met Sarah, she’d tackled him and they’d wrestled until he was pinned, because the only move he could think to make could’ve hurt her.  

As much as Oliver Sandulf changed the perception of rogues, his daughter changed the perception of dominant females. Several packs had female Betas and Gammas. They were encouraged to embrace, rather than reject non-dominant mates. Many packs flourished with healthier relationships and more positive homes for children.

Now, the third generation of amazing wolves was laying in my bed. When she’d quoted her grandfather to me, I was thrilled. It was exactly like something he would’ve said, but I never heard that quote before. More than anything, it convinced me she was telling the truth.

She spent most of her life in direct contact with silver, but wasn’t dead or sickly. Even though, she could’ve run straight from the back of the cabin and left me to deal with the hunters, she headed to the side so they would follow. Livy didn’t have to tell me my pack would be attacked, but she did. Then she helped me contact them instead of leaving me to figure it out myself.

When I turned back, she was asleep. I chuckled. Her hand was off the edge of the bed, like she’d been reaching for me when sleep overtook her. I changed into my pajama pants and went to tuck her in again. I noticed the nightstand drawer was open a crack and looked inside.

There was a glossy photo of Livy stapled to a stack of papers. She was sitting sideways in a chair with a book and looked at the camera with a soft smile. Her hair was in a tight braided bun.

She was wearing jeans with a fuzzy sweater and striped socks. Around her neck was a scarf tied in a bow and she was wearing fingerless gloves. The wariness I’d seen in her eyes wasn’t there, they held the shadow of pain instead.

I took the papers with me, as I crawled into bed with her, and sat against the headboard. Flipping the picture, I looked over the first page. Livy rolled over and wrapped her arms around my waist, burying her face into my hip. I stroked her hair as I read.

The person who hired the hunters specified she must be delivered intact and unharmed. I knew that hadn’t been a possibility after I saw the motel room.

They specified where she was to be delivered and how the hunters would contact the client in the first page. The rest of the document outlined information about her which would help them identify her, coax her, capture her, and take care of her.

I thought about how she said she’d worn a collar from four until fifteen before getting the one currently sitting on my counter. Someone in her old pack was definitely trying to get her back. The first page said she would be forced to be compliant in the collar, but said nothing about how. Only someone who had a hand in the earlier wearing of it would have known.

A resolution came over me. She wanted to be dead to save herself from a future which probably contained another silver collar. There could even be something worse on the horizon. I wasn’t going to risk it. No one should be forced into compliance.

I pulled Livy’s arms off of me and retrieved my cellphone, then popped outside to make my call. I didn’t want to risk waking her. She’d been through enough. I could surprise her in the morning. I found the number I wanted in my contacts and dialed.

“Great Lakes Pack, Ferrell Johnson speaking.”

“Greetings, Beta Ferrell. This is Oliver from the Sawtooth Pack.”

“Greetings to you, Beta Oliver! What can I do for you this evening?” He asked.

“I need the number for the Dark Moon Pack’s Beta. I figured you might have it.”

“Yes. My brother, Philip, joined that pack. I’m just looking it up now, I made contact with Beta Quentin Varkas when I went for a visit and we exchanged numbers. It was a few years ago.” Ferrell said.

“Oh? About how many?” I asked politely.

Ferrell took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “I think five. The number should still be good, though.”

“Do you remember seeing a girl there with long brown hair and blue eyes who wore something around her neck?” I inquired.

“That’s a weird ask… I do remember seeing something like that. A girl who wore a black scarf type thing tied into a bow and fingerless gloves that went up to her elbows. She was dressed in black entirely. Black jeans, black boots, black tank top. No one talked to her. She looked bored and angry. I asked Philip about it. He said she wasn’t able to change. She wouldn’t talk to anyone except for a couple friends. And the Alpha.” He told me.

“Do you remember her name?”

“Sorry. It was five years ago. Found the number. Ready?”

I took down the number and thanked Ferrell for the information. I took a deep breath. She kept her neck covered. It made sense. I wondered at the gloves and why she was wearing black, but I had no room to judge someone’s fashion choices.

Livy seemed to have more colorful tastes now. I was almost betting she wore black and an angry expression to keep people away. It would keep them from asking questions about the constant scarf and the risk of revealing her secret.

I dialed the Dark Moon’s Beta. After three rings there was an answer. I knew it was two hours later there, but I wanted to get this resolved.

“Dark Moon, this is Quentin.”

“This is Oliver Pines. I’m Beta of the Sawtooth Pack. I’m calling to report a death of one of your pack members.” I said somberly.

It was a call I had made in the past. I knew exactly how to speak and what to say. It was never a pleasant call, but one that I would make dutifully.

“Just a moment, let me get to my office so I can get my logs.” Quentin grunted.

After a little while, I could hear shuffling and clattering. He must have made it to his office. He was probably pulling out his file on recently transferred and vacationing wolves.

“What is the pack member’s name and cause of death?” He asked.

“Liviana Drake. She was killed by hunters. Stabbed, then beaten to death. If not for us catching one of them, we wouldn’t have been able to identify her.” I said.

Quentin gasped. “Not Livy. We thought she was visiting her father’s old pack in Maine. Alpha Renault was hoping she’d come back and accept his offer.”

“What offer? I hope you don’t mind me prying. It’s just, we don’t see many east coast wolves here and we were wondering what kind of person she was.”

“Livy was sweet, obedient, and quiet. She took care of her grandfather until the end. Alpha Renault offered to make her Luna of the pack. He’d been courting her since she was eighteen. When she left three months ago, he said she was probably just going to visit her other grandparents for a while to process her grandfather’s death. Then, she just didn’t come back.” Quentin said softly.  

She hadn’t mentioned that she was being courted by an Alpha. What female in her right mind would give up being Luna of her pack? Of course, if she would be forced to wear that collar, I could understand.

“Was she his mate? Will he be okay?” I asked.

“No. She wasn’t his mate. Livy was injured in the accident that killed her parents. She had to wear a silver collar to keep her human. He pitied her because no one would want a damaged girl like that. Lyall wanted to have her as Luna to honor her mother and her grandfather. You know she was Oliver Sandulf’s granddaughter?”

“Shit.” I sighed. “I was named for him, you know. It looked like she killed at least one of the hunters before she died, though.”

“Her grandfather would’ve been proud. I’ll make the notifications here. You might hear from us about arrangements. Do you have any proof other than what the hunter said?” Quentin asked.

“We usually take a lock of hair before burning the body. We have some of hers. Would you like us to send it?”

“Yes, please. It will help us to come to terms with her death.” Quentin told me.

“Sorry to leave you with such sad news tonight. Call me if you need anything else. I’m contacting you from my cell, so I’m available anytime.” I said.

“Thank you for taking the time to track me down. I wish we could’ve found a way to save her. Poor thing. She was never altogether there. Always staring quietly like she was waiting for something.” He sighed. “Good night, Beta Oliver.”

“Good night, Beta Quentin.”

We hung up. I sat heavily on the wicker chair by the door and processed what I’d been told. She was injured? Couldn’t maintain human form? She seemed to be doing fine now.

I couldn’t question the Beta, but I could ask her to clarify it in the morning. Why would she run away from being Luna of the Dark Moons? It was still confusing, but the other Beta confirmed she was definitely who she said she was.